


the hunter gets captured by the game

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-13
Updated: 2007-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:56:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: First installment in my new fanboy!verse. Jensen plays Sam Winchester on a hit television show, and is a bit of a cynical ass. Jared's his number one fan...and needs a favor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** the hunter gets captured by the game  
**Characters:** Jared/Jensen, guest appearances by Chad Michael Murray and Lauren Graham.  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Word Count:** 5,595  
**Summary:** First installment in my new [ fanboy!verse](http://keepaofthecheez.livejournal.com/tag/fanboy!verse). Jensen plays Sam Winchester on a hit television show, and is a bit of a cynical ass. Jared’s his number one fan…and needs a favor.  
**Notes:** Written also to fulfill the [ ](http://community.livejournal.com/j2_otpathon/profile)[**j2_otpathon**](http://community.livejournal.com/j2_otpathon/) challenge of J2/fancy hotel/dirty talk.  
  
  
  
  
 

**the hunter gets captured by the game  
by keepaofthecheez**

  
  
  
  
**Jared.**  
  
  
“So, I think I might be gay.”  
  
The words tumble past his lips, disrupting the drowsy, relaxing silence, and Jared brings the joint back up to his mouth. Sweet-smoky flavor washes over his tongue, clouding and filling his lungs, and he breathes out in a haze of satisfaction.  
  
“Like…all the way?” Chad pulls on a thick slice of strawberry taffy and stares dazedly at the television screen. “Dude. That’s kinda. I mean, whoa. Good for you, putting it all out there, man.”  
  
“I’m a risk-taker,” Jared agrees, slouching against the pillows and thumbing at the hem of his shirt. From under his lashes, he regards his best friend with unsteady concentration from the pot and alcohol swimming in his system. “S’like…there’s something good out there, Chad. And I’m gonna find it.”  
  
“I totally hear ya, man.” Chad nods solemnly, taking the joint between two fingers and studying his candy with deep-rooted intensity. Then, “Wait. Are we still talking about you wanting to suck dick?”  
  
Jared bites his tongue and manfully resists slapping Chad upside the head. “I wanna do something new, something besides takin’ my clothes off so they can slap my abs on shopping bags and magazine catalogues. I wanna do television again.”  
  
“You do television,” Chad reminds him. “You were on…wazzit called…that one with the dog.”  
  
“That was a commercial, and it was three years ago.” The same old frustration starts to bubble up inside of Jared, blowing his mellow apart at the seams. “I wanna do something that matters. Something that _I_ chose for myself.”  
  
Something that’ll make him happy, make him feel _satisfied_. He’s lost within his own imagination, thinking of all the possibilities out there. Just _waiting_ for him.  
  
“You wanna suck my dick?”  
  
Jared slowly turns to stare at his friend, meeting Chad’s glazed eyes and blinking. “What?”  
  
Chad shrugs. “Dunno man, just thought maybe you’d want, like, practice or something. I’m up for that.”  
  
Jared opens his mouth, thoughts about being serious, being _taken_ seriously ripe on his tongue. In the end he lets out a sigh and flops back against the couch cushions. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“You’re kind of totally gay,” Chad points out later, cheeks flushed, hair mussed. “But thas’ cool.”  
  
Jared licks his lips and comes to his feet. “Whatever. Gimme.” He snatches the burning joint from Chad’s fingers, taking a deep drag. “Shit, I gotta go. I’ll be back early.”  
  
Chad’s expression turns sly. “Lemme guess… _Jensen’s_ on tonight.” He drawls the name out, slow and thick, and Jared feels a silly little pang in his belly before Chad starts cackling like a hyena. “Dude, so lame. You’re such a fucking tweeny sometimes, ya fag.”  
  
Jared would have a comeback, but it’s true. Doesn’t mean he has to let a fucking loser like Chad Michael Murray say it to his face, though. “I watch his show because I like it. You’re just jealous that no one watches _One Tree Hill_ ‘cept your mama and those girls at the roller-rink.”  
  
Chad snorts, raises his palm, and actually _says_ , “Talk to the hand.”  
  
_Oh, Jesus Christ._ Jared lets out a breath, and then lets himself out of his apartment.  
  
Jared likes to think of LA as the city of opportunity, but lately that well’s run dry as the Sahara. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he stumbles down the front steps, warm summer air kissing his face as he squints into the sun and almost runs into a pair of kids tossing around a Frisbee disc.  
  
By the time he makes it to the studio, his agent’s pissed off and arguing with the photographer, who just looks bored by the whole ordeal. Jared casts a glance around the room, sees oiled muscles gleaming beneath high-wattage bulbs.  
  
“Yo.” Jerry and the photographer, and a few of the other guys, turn to look at him. “I’m here,” he adds unnecessarily, and watches his agent’s face go red.  
  
“Jared.” Jerry walks up, thin lips forced into a smile, gaze accusing. “The shoot was supposed to start an hour ago.”  
  
_I don’t care_ , Jared thinks with a sigh. Outwardly, he shoves a hand through his unruly mop and tries to grin. “Something came up?”  
  
Jerry’s hand clenches around his arm and Jared finds himself dragged into a shadowy corner. “Look, you might not get off on this. Whatever. You want work, Jared? You’ll fucking show up for it. Abercrombie & Fitch isn’t something to sneeze at, all right?”  
  
Jared jerks his arm away, purses his lips. “I’ve done the modeling thing, _Jerry_ ,” he mutters, feeling a stab of resentment as he pictures Chad crashed out back in his apartment, on vacation from filming in Wilmington.   
  
Christ, Jared wants to be on a show again.  
  
_Maybe you should’ve kept it in your pants,_ his inner-voice sings, and Jared thinks of Alexis with a grimace. _Or at least figured out you were gay **before** you fucked and dumped your co-star. Smooth move, genius._  
  
It doesn’t help matters that Jerry’s got that look in his eyes again, that fucking patronizing, amused glint that makes Jared want to slam a fist into the guy’s mouth. “Jared, you gotta take what you’re given,” he says, as if speaking to a five-year old. “Work your way back up.”  
  
“To what?” Jared lowers his voice, suddenly angry and frustrated. “Another dog food commercial? Kiss my ass, Jerry, how about _you_ do _your_ job and let me do mine.”  
  
With that, he leaves his agent sputtering and stalks back over to the stage, stripping his shirt off and letting one of the makeup girls spritz him with freezing cold baby oil.   
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Chad’s still there when Jared gets home.  
  
Slamming the door, he ignores the lump shaped like his best friend and heads for the shower. He’s eager to rinse himself of the grit and “sweat” of his photoshoot and then immerse himself in his favorite pastime as of late:  
  
Watching Jensen Ackles fight demons.  
  
Okay, so, yeah. It probably makes him a complete dork, but Jared’s vaguely starstruck by the guy. He loves Jensen’s work – from _Days of Our Lives_ to the newly lauded _Supernatural_ , and had crossed paths with Jensen several times when they’d both been on the same network: Jared on _Gilmore Girls_ , Jensen on _Smallville._  
  
Crossed paths, but never the same one.  
  
Needless to say, after the whole incident with Alexis and then Milo Whatthefuckever coming in to take his place, Jared didn’t have much of a reason to hope he’d run into Jensen. Sure, he does guest spots for the network now and then, usually one-shots with the illustrious title of _Student #3_ , but apparently _Supernatural_ ’s quite happy with it’s anemic cast and Canadian guest stars.  
  
He’s even gone as far as to write in with story ideas, some pretty cool and freaky shit if he says so himself – even if he _is_ stoned or drunk half the time when he thinks of them – but if any ever even got to the writer’s room in the first place, they never made it out. He isn’t really surprised, but it still sucks.  
  
Chad, Chad the fucker, knows Jensen. Takes great pleasure in letting Jared in on what he considers “the facts”.  
  
_“I’d introduce you, but he’s a total asshole, Jay. Oh, and a whore. Just a total whore. Don’t even bother…he’s not worth it.”_  
  
Of course, coming from Chad – who is currently divorced and dating a _minor_ , _and_ who’d begged Jared to suck him off just that morning, for God’s sake – Jared takes it all with a grain of salt.  
  
The hot shower feels good against his weary shoulders, and he splays a palm out flat against slick tile, wishing for a smoke and a beer. Wondering if he can somehow trick Chad into actually getting up off of his ass long enough to go grab a pizza from the Italian joint down the strip. Since there’s not much of a chance of that, and _he’s_ sure as hell not going anywhere else, he resigns himself to leftover Chinese and scrubs himself dry with the ridiculously fluffy towels his mother sent him last Christmas.  
  
“Hey.” Chad’s mouth is full of coke and the lo mein Jared had planned to nuke when Jared comes into the living room, and Jared stares at his friend while holding the towel together at his hips.  
  
“Dude,” Jared complains. “That’s my _dinner._ ”  
  
Chad swallows a forkful of noodles, throat working as he points somewhere over Jared’s left shoulder. “There’s a pizza place down the street, man.”  
  
“Chad!”  
  
Chad’s features are a study of irritation. “Look, Jared, if I have to watch that fucking _show_ and see you drool all over Slutty McSlutterston, then I get the goddamn noodles.”  
  
Jared growls and disappears into his bedroom, coming back in a pair of boxers and a sleeveless shirt. “You know, you _could_ get a hotel,” he points out. “In fact, please, let me make you a _reservation._ ”  
  
“You’d be sorry I was gone. Who else would listen to your pre mid-life crisis and then let you blow them out of the kindness of their own heart?”  
  
“Dude. I was _stoned_. I would’ve blown a balloon if it’d asked me.” Jared stomps past the chair Chad’s sprawled out on, grabbing the remote on his way. Flopping down into the couch cushions, he lets out a sigh and flips over to the familiar ghastly green channel.  
  
By the time the title card goes up in flames, the usual arguments are already under way.  
  
“Dean’s way cooler than Sam anyway,” Chad says, and Jared grunts under his breath and takes another sip of beer.   
  
“Why, because he gets the funny lines? Sam’s the _soul_ of the show.”  
  
“No, you’re just a pussy.” Chad snaps his fingers. “Dude, you know what? _You_ should’ve gone out for Sam. You’d’ve been great at all that whiny mopey emo bullshit.”  
  
Jared flips him off. “Yeah, because _anyone_ would’ve picked me over Jensen Ackles.”  
  
“Crazier shit’s happened,” is all Chad says, then shrugs his shoulders. “But yeah, you’re probably right. Guy can fucking cry on a dime.”  
  
Which was true.  
  
“I heard he did porn once.” Chad shoves another forkful of noodles into his mouth, slurping loudly as Jared turns to stare at him. “What? I didn’t say I _saw_ it.”  
  
Jared shakes his head and turns back to watch, a little fascinated by the play of emotions across Jensen’s face as his character Sam Winchester begs his older, devil-may-care brother to talk to him about their father’s death. He doesn’t know Josh Jackson outside of the random WB parties from his past, but the guy always seemed like a charmer…a good fit for the older Winchester brother.  
  
Jensen, though. Jensen’s _painfully_ perfect for his role. And Jared can already feel himself getting hard when Sam’s voice breaks—  
  
_“Dean, you’re not **fine**._ ”  
  
\-- and shifts restlessly on the couch, fingers itching to creep up his thigh. Wanting to take his cock in hand. God, those _eyes_ …big and expressive, washed in green-gold and black. Jared bites his lip and digs his thumbs into his crossed arms.   
  
There’s no way Chad can be right. Jensen might be a fucking amazing actor, but all of that compassion and sincerity that comes with Sam’s character can’t be faked. Not _all_ of it.   
  
Unfortunately, Jared’s drunk enough by the end of the episode to mention this out loud, and is subjected to Chad’s evil cackles for nearly a half hour afterward. By the time his friend finally winds down, there’s an almost appraising look coloring Chad’s features, and then, “Okay. I have an idea.”  
  
Jared groans. “I don’t wanna know.”  
  
“No, no, just hear me out.” Chad sits forward, a light in his eyes that Jared’s never seen. “There’s this network thing coming up next week, to welcome some big-wig producer into the fold or some shit. Anyway, your boy’ll probably be there, so you should come and meet him.”  
  
For a minute, Jared’s stunned. Outright fucking _gobsmacked_ at the idea, like he could really just walk up to Jensen and be like “Hi, Jensen. I kind of want to lick you all over your really ridiculously goodlooking body and oh, then maybe suck your dick until you yelp like a puppy, and by the way? I love your work.”  
  
Out loud, he says, “What?”  
  
Chad waves a hand. “C’mon, Jay, I give. Meet the guy and then get the fuck _over_ him. Hell, maybe he’ll like _you_ and talk to the writers and get you on that damn show so you’ll stop bitching and moaning.”  
  
_That’s_ just plain unfair. Jared’s fairly certain he doesn’t bitch and moan…okay, maybe only after a really bad photoshoot or actually _seeing_ himself in those damn catalogues, but he still thinks Chad’s just being a jackass.  
  
“You’re a jackass,” he mutters, sinking lower and downing his beer.  
  
“So, you _don’t_ wanna meet him?” Chad’s tone turns sly. “Because I could arrange it, bro. Just say the word, and Jensen Ross Ackles is all yours.”  
  
_I fucking wish._  
  
“Hey, you guys could bond over modeling!” Chad waves a magnanimous hand, voice taking on a mocking note. “Just think of all the _possibilities_ , Jared.”  
  
“Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you’re _hilarious_.” Jared swallows, refusing to think about what could happen if he ever _did_ meet Jensen, but he can’t get Chad’s words out of his head. Biting his lip, he glances over from under his lashes. “Are you serious?”  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
  
**Jensen.**  
  
  
If there’s anything Jensen hates more than obligatory network shindigs, he can’t think of the creature. It’s not that he doesn’t like people, even though he doesn’t, but it’s more that he doesn’t like _these_ people. These stupid, fake assholes who smile and fawn all over him one minute, then laugh and gossip behind his back the next.  
  
Jensen knows who he is, _what_ he is. A little sarcastic, a lot cynical. The rumors of his sexual prowess aren’t exactly unfounded, although he prefers to think that he’s simply partaking of what’s been given to him. And, well, he’s a slut.  
  
He likes it that way.  
  
And really, hooking up with some stranger he’ll never have to see again is about the only high point of evenings like these, so he sips from a glass of over-priced champagne and pretends to listen as Lauren Graham goes off on a tangent about her dry cleaning – again.   
  
Jensen smiles, even though he’s imagining Lauren undressing Allie Mack in one of the shadowy corners of the hotel room, their similarly crimson dresses pooling down across milky white skin and—  
  
“Jared!” Lauren’s voice rises in pleasant surprise, and Jensen blinks, a frown marring his features as his fantasy’s interrupted. Lauren’s rushing past him like she’s forgotten he _exists_ , which _no_ , and practically latching onto some faceless giant in a pair of blue jeans and a pressed black designer shirt.   
  
And then Lauren moves back, and Jensen sees him. And the champagne flute nearly slips out from between his fingers.  
  
_Good Christ_.   
  
He’s more than a little impressed. Which just doesn’t happen, not all that often. And not with guys. Not that Jensen has a problem thinking guys are hot, but he _knows_ he’s better looking than most of them, so there’s usually no real reaction aside from _yeah, I’d fuck him_ or _no, move along now._  
  
This guy. _This_ guy Jensen kind of wants to take home and mount on his wall. Or his mattress. And he’s not about to be stopped just because Lauren Graham may or may not have first dibs.   
  
His lips curl into a grin, one finger tugging at his collar as he downs the rest of the champagne and drops the glass onto a nearby table. He catches sight of Josh across the room, well ensconced in a conversation with Tom and Mike. _Good._ Last thing he needs is his overly patronizing co-star to show up and “save” this kid from Jensen’s evil clutches.  
  
Jensen likes Josh just fine. They’d gotten along well enough on _Dawson’s Creek_ , and were good buddies now. Didn’t mean they agreed on much of anything, and Jensen's pretty sure Josh wouldn’t approve of his intentions to seduce Abercrombie & Fitch out of his trendy low-risers.  
  
He can hear Lauren talking as he walks up behind her, then pretends to look surpised when she turns and bumps him with her elbow. “Easy there,” he laughs, pulling out the charm his mama bestowed on him. “First you abandon me, and now assault?”  
  
Lauren laughs, a throaty, rich sound Jensen normally appreciates. Right now though, he’s on a mission. Jake and Elwood Blues ain’t got nothin’ on him.  
  
“Like you were listening anyway?” Jensen’s smile falters a bit. “Jared, this is Jensen Ackles. Jensen, Jared Padalecki.” With an arm wrapped firmly around the kid’s - _Jared’s_ \- waist, she pats him on the chest and beams. “This one I practically helped raise from the womb.”  
  
“Lauren, I was eighteen.” Jared laughs, and Jensen wants to lick the pretty flush creeping along Jared’s neck. Lauren’s name is conveniently called from across the room, and Jensen makes a note to send Dawn Ostroff a gift basket when Lauren disappears with another quick hug from Jared.   
  
Jared shoots him a quick, covert glance - _oh, lord help me…an innocent one_ \- and his lips pull into a shy smile. “She’s uh, a little protective.”  
  
“You two worked together?” Jensen surmises, studying Jared’s features for any semblance of familiarity. Not that he’s about to admit to watching _Gilmore Girls_ or anything. He’s not _that_ out of the closet.  
  
Jared’s expression dims a little, and then the grin's back full-force and brighter than before. “Yeah, for awhile.” When he leaves it at that, Jensen blinks and clears his throat.  
  
“Um, okay then.” He takes another step closer, feeling the temperature heat up between them, enhancing the cologne spicing Jared’s skin. “Wanna get a drink?”  
  
Jared’s lids fall a bit, his lips parting on a slow breath, and just as he’s about to answer, Jensen’s cell phone starts vibrating at his hip. With a barely concealed curse, he pulls it out and reads the blinking text message with growing irritation.  
  
_Presentation in an hour. Don’t make me have to come find you._  
  
“Everything all right?” Jared sounds way too fucking polite and genuinely concerned. And it’s just so _wrong_ , so out of place amidst the assholes and phonies that, for a minute, Jensen wants to drag Jared out and far away from the glitz and glamour. Keep him safe on the outskirts where that earnest smile won’t fade away to jaded cynicism.  
  
Instead, he gives Jared a smile of his own and shifts his weight onto his hip, bringing their bodies nearly flush together against the wall. Jared swallows; Jensen’s smile grows wider. “Peachy. So, how about that drink?”  
  
Jared nods, and Jensen can already taste success.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Turns out, Jared’s a really talkative drunk. And not the kind that ramble on about stuff that doesn’t make sense, no focus or point in sight. No, Jared always seems to have a point. It just gets bogged down in allegory and anecdotes that are, granted, generally amusing, but Jensen’s on a timetable here.  
  
It’s just his luck that Jared’s a goddamn _Supernatural_ fan.  
  
“And I really liked that one - " Jared's voice catches on a hiccup, and Jensen's eye twitches. "That one where Sam glues Dean’s hand to the beer bottle. And then he can’t get it off, remember?” Jared laughs with bright eyes, demonstrating with his own bottle of Bud. “That-that was a good one.”  
  
“Yeah. Good times.” Jensen reaches out, fingers brushing Jared’s as he takes the drink away and sets it on the table. “So…Jared, right?" Jared nods, and Jensen leans forward, rubbing the underside of Jared’s chin with his thumb. Lets his voice fill with husky invitation. "Let’s just get to the point then, Jared. Have you ever sucked cock?”  
  
Jared’s still smiling, blinking ridiculously long lashes. "Like...lately? Or at all?" He hiccups again, then cracks up like Jensen's made some kind of joke, when in reality the only thing funny about this situation is just how damn easy it's gonna be to get Jared's pretty-pink mouth wrapped around his dick and swallowing before he's due back upfront.  
  
_Fifteen minutes_. Jensen sees Josh's latest text message in his head, and flashes his teeth at Jared, who looks slightly dazzled by the effect.  
  
Oh yeah. Too damn easy.  
  
“Why don’t we find somewhere quiet and talk about it some more?” Jensen cajoles, _purrs_ , Jared’s thigh firm beneath his palm as he urges Jared to his feet. Jensen’s a bit taken aback when the kid unfolds his body to full height and Jensen’s left looking _up_ to meet Jared’s gaze.   
  
Jared’s features are flushed with drink and arousal, lips shiny, eyes glassy-bright. “Yeah, okay.”   
  
Jensen can feel a few people watching them as he half-drags Jared out of the room, but he doesn’t give a damn what that bitch from _America’s Next Top Model_ might be thinking, although can't help being a bit worried about the knowing grin on Mike Rosenbaum’s face. Guy’s a total ass when he’s got something on you. With his hand pressed against Jared’s lower back, Jensen turns and flips his ex co-star off, then closes the door and shuts out the noise from the party.  
  
When he looks back, Jared’s standing in the middle of the room looking like six and a half feet of drunken temptation. Jensen’s struck by the surprising urge to walk over and _climb_ those long limbs, when all he should really be concerned with is getting Goliath on his knees.  
  
And Jared’s just _staring_ at him; gaze heavy and a little unfocused. His tongue swipes across his lips every few seconds. Jensen’s eyes drop, tracking the movement, blood pulsing through his veins, into his cock.  
  
Oh, he’s gonna have so much fun with this.  
  
“I haven’t been to one of these in awhile,” Jared blurts out then, and Jensen blinks. “I mean, not since, well, before.”  
  
“Uh.” Jensen has no idea what _before_ means or what it has to do with _now_ , but he’s willing to humor Jared if he'll get some play out of it. “Okay.”  
  
Jared draws his bottom lip into his mouth, big hands shoved down deep inside his blue jeans. He lets out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle - Jensen absolutely does _not_ find it adorable - shaking his head and sending his hair tumbling across his forehead. “I, um, wow. I’m not doing a very good job at this, am I?”  
  
The sincerity gives Jensen pause, pulse catching, but then he’s back on track and sending Jared a smoky smile as he crosses the room toward the bed. The mattress is firm when he sits down, supple, and he leaves his legs spread, hands on his knees, and watches Jared from under heavy lids. “You’re doin’ fine. Why don’t you come on over here?”  
  
Jared nods and wanders over, loose-hipped and long-legged. Jensen licks his lips and gets lost in images of those legs wrapped around his waist, ankles crossed at his back. His dick buried deep in all that warm, smooth, honey-gold flesh.   
  
“…might be a lot to ask.” Jared’s voice suddenly brings Jensen back around. “But I just, I figured what the hell, you know? You only live once, might as well go for it.”  
  
_Oh, hell yeah. Now we’re talking._  
  
“I agree.” Jensen looks up at him from under his lashes, a practiced move, and slides even closer. He lifts a hand, wrapping it around the back of Jared’s neck and nearly shuddering at the feel of that velvet-silk hair caressing his fingertips. “You should definitely go for it.”  
  
Jared beams, ridiculously white teeth flashing, and Jensen feels vaguely like he’s been sucker-punched. “That’s so, God, Jensen, that’s just…thank you _so_ much.”   
  
Jensen blinks again, all of Jared’s words sounding foreign and fuzzy in the wake of his blinding smile. “You have a, um, a mole on your cheek.”  
  
It’s Jared’s turn to look confused. “I…? Yeah, I do. I have a couple, actually.” He ducks his head, like he’s almost _ashamed_ of the fact, and Jensen feels something he’d label as amazement fill him up, were he not pretty damn sure he was impervious to the emotion.  
  
“I like it.” Jensen's voice hits a husky pitch that hell, even turns _him_ on, and sure enough. Jared lifts his head and this time there’s a distinct glimmer of _oh yeah, baby_ darkening those color-changing eyes. Jensen flicks his tongue across his own mouth, wetting the tender flesh and enjoying the way Jared’s breath catches.   
  
“Look, Jensen.” Jared clears his throat, gnawing on his bottom lip like it’s a steak dinner. “You don’t even know…is there anything I can do for _you?_ I mean, seriously, dude. You’ve pretty much saved my ass.”  
  
_Guy’s a little weird._ Jensen's got no fucking clue what Jared’s even talking about. _Weird, but smokin’ hot._  
  
“Yeah,” he says out loud, squeezing Jared’s neck and letting his thumb press in deep. Jared’s lashes flutter, and he lets out a satisfying moan of pleasure that has Jensen’s toes curling. “I can think of a few things.”  
  
He doesn’t even have to tell Jared what to do, just watches as Jared’s lips part on a slow breath, his eyes falling half-closed. And then Jared’s on his knees, wide palms spreading Jensen’s legs apart so he can fit his giant shoulders in between.  
  
Jensen’s head falls back on a pleased groan when Jared’s hand slips inside his linen trousers, playfully seeking hardened flesh and squeezing. He lifts his hips, lets Jared pull his pants down to his ankles, and then… “Oh, _fuck._ Fuck, your mouth.”  
  
Jared stares up at him, slanted eyes blazing, that wide mouth stretched so pretty around Jensen’s dick while he laps and sucks. He backs off a bit, humming under his breath, “Oh yeah, fuck my mouth,” before curling his tongue and closing his eyes.  
  
_Shit._ Okay, so, maybe not so innocent.  
  
Jensen drops his hand to Jared’s head, pulling and petting silky dark curls, and mouths soundlessly toward the ceiling. Hips bucking in shallow bursts, he lets his cock fuck past willing lips, a smile stretching across his own. This is his reward for the long hours, harsh regime, sleepless nights fronting a television show brings: getting his dick sucked by some pretty model-wannabe-actor with a mouth like sin and a face like an angel.   
  
He’s never really thought of himself as a romantic, but there’s something very poetic about the way Jared’s mouth swallows him down. How he lets Jensen’s cock tickle the back of his throat and keeps moaning for even more. It’s wet and hot and _perfect_ , and Jensen’s coming with a yelp and a curse within minutes. He forces Jared’s head down farther, moans turning to mewls when candy-pink lips tighten and screw down his length.  
  
When he finally lets go of Jared’s hair, his spent cock twitches at the sight of Jared’s glistening mouth as he sits up and dabs at the corner of his lip. It’s not until Jared’s finger then disappears into his mouth, gaze locked on Jensen, that Jensen realizes maybe he’s underestimated the kid a bit.  
  
“You taste so fucking good,” is all Jared says, a low murmur-groan that pounds through Jensen’s bloodstream like a heady drug. He doesn’t even register moving until he’s got Jared pinned to the mattress, straddling his still-clothed legs and sucking on three of those absurdly long fingers.  
  
“All right, you little bitch,” he growls, staring down into Jared’s lust-soaked features and grinding against the rigid line of his cock. “You better fuck my ass good, you hear me?”  
  
Jared’s mouth falls open on a breathy pant, eyes going wide and soft as Jensen reaches for his belt buckle and starts to tug. Jared’s hips lift up, his pants slide down, and then his dick is staring Jensen right in the face and, good _Christ._  
  
“Are you fucking _serious?_ ”  
  
“What?” Jared looks more than a little worried, momentarily snapping out of his starstruck daze and sitting up on his elbows. “Something wrong with it?”  
  
Jensen’s finger shakes a bit when he points down. “Is that your dick or a fucking telephone pole, man? Jesus _Christ!_ ”  
  
“Oh, God, it’s weird isn’t it?” Jared draws hard on his lip, flushing a deep pink against sunkissed gold. “I—”  
  
“Shut up.” Jensen’s mouth is practically watering; he’s never actually _seen_ a dick as pretty as the one flirting toward him right this minute. And he’s seen a lot of dick - enough for an inner-city line-up – but he’s always found them more useful than aesthetic.   
  
Jared’s though, is hard and flushed and smooth, tip a dark, glistening rose that begs to be soothed, and yeah…freaking huge. But Jensen can work with that. Hell, it’ll be a goddamn _challenge_ to see how much of that thing he can get up his ass before he chokes on it.  
  
Jensen’s always been a damn good competitor.  
  
Completely oblivious to his thoughts, Jared’s still nervous and trying to reassure Jensen. “It’s cool, we don’t have to…I know it’s like, totally insane. You should’ve seen my last girlfriend, she…but you know, that’s not really. Um. Oh, oh God.”  
  
Jensen’s smile is sharp as he fingers himself open, lip caught between his teeth and eyes half-closed. “Do me a favor, man,” he says conversationally. “Grab me that lotion on the dresser.”  
  
Jared blinks, then obeys with slow, drugged movements. Jensen grabs the bottle, popping the cap and slicking his palm before reaching for Jared. The first squeeze of his fist nearly sends them both flying when Jared bucks his hips with a loud cry. Jensen holds on tight, thoughts of home and riding bareback flittering through his mind, and then he scoots up and sinks down.  
  
“Ohjesusfuckingchrist!” Jared growls, and Jensen hisses out a moan between his teeth as that thick flesh invades his own. He lays his palms flat against Jared’s chest, mouth a grim line as he fucks himself down Jared’s cock and pursues every last grunt and groan spilling from that golden throat.  
  
“Oh, goddamn.” He’s panting like a racehorse, which seems appropriate since he feels like he’s riding one. Jared’s writhing underneath him, seeming so close and on edge, but the kid just won’t _come._ His dick is like Superdick or something, and Jensen needs to find the Kryptonite before he’s left walking even more bowlegged than usual.  
  
“Talk to me,” Jared says suddenly, gasping.   
  
“You like hearing about it, huh?” Jensen’s tongue wets his lips. “Like hearing how fucking good your dick feels up my ass?”  
  
Jared whimpers. “God, yes.”  
  
“Oh, baby, this is _so_ my kind of kink.” Jensen flashes his teeth, already lifting himself up and sinking down again. “I fucking love this shit. And hell, you sucked me off so sweet, Jared, I’m gonna let you come, too.”  
  
Jared just hisses, eyes falling closed, and his hands grip Jensen’s hips as he thrusts again. Jensen bites his lip, lashes fluttering against the sensations Jared’s dick battering into him bring, and his voice is a bit less steady when he continues.  
  
“Come, you fucking pretty…come in my ass. Fill it up and make me _feel_ it,” he croons, riding hard and shuddering. “ _Christ_ , you’re big. You’re just fucking…”  
  
Jared’s thumbs press in too deep, blood vessels bursting beneath and Jensen knows he’ll be sporting two extra-large handprints in the morning. It’s hard to give a damn when Jared’s stretching his neck, straining, coming so nice and pretty underneath him. Jensen slows down to enjoy it, draw it out, fingering the pulsing vein on Jared’s neck and then laving the sweat from his finger.  
  
Jared moans at this, cursing under his breath and chewing his lips raw. Jensen just smiles.  
  
“Look, I gotta go,” he says, breathing heavy and climbing off of Jared’s lap with more than a wince. “It was nice meeting you, Jared.”  
  
Jared sits up on his elbows, red and flushed all over. “Okay, um…how should I get in touch with you?”  
  
Jensen pauses, pants halfway up his hips. And it’s not that he hadn’t maybe _thought_ about giving Jared his number or whatever, but to have it thrown out so casually is a bit…  
  
Plus, this was _supposed_ to be his one-night stand. To be forgotton once the alcohol and ennui wore off, and now he’s got a giant fanboy with the prettiest cock south of the Mason-Dixon line lounging on a hotel bed and looking at him with stars in his goddamn gorgeous eyes.  
  
“Fuck me,” he mutters.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Um, I’ll call you,” he says louder, fixing a smile on his face and sliding his arms into his sleeves. “Just…sit tight.”  
  
Jared looks confused, but nods. “Okay, it’s just. I was really hoping to get the ball rolling on this thing. God, I’m _so_ ready to quit this modeling bullshit.”  
  
Jensen can symphathize. Although…wait. “What?”  
  
Jared beams, sitting all the way up and sliding to the edge of the bed. His voice takes on a deliciously shivery pitch when he says, “I’ve wanted to do a guest spot for so long…this is just really great of you, man.”  
  
Jensen’s got sweat and come drying against his skin, and his phone’s starting to vibrate – again – in his pocket. And there’s Jared, fucking smiling back at him from messy, sex-spent sheets.  
  
God _damn_. He really hates these network parties.  
  
**to be continued.**


End file.
